


Bottled Appetites

by W4nderingStar



Category: Overwatch (Video Game), The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Bard McCree, M/M, Mage Jack, Witcher AU, Witcher Gabe, a shameless re-write of THAT sceen, background nudity, background orgy, because I'm busy, but so weak for this AU idea
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-19
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:26:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22311010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/W4nderingStar/pseuds/W4nderingStar
Summary: The Black Owl meets a Mage that just might be his match....
Relationships: Reaper | Gabriel Reyes/Soldier: 76 | Jack Morrison
Comments: 35
Kudos: 126





	Bottled Appetites

**Author's Note:**

> Who's a weak bitch? It's MEEEEEE. 
> 
> Who's a weak bitch but is also crazy busy with editing and like 4 other major writing projects while also playing video games because I miss them and it's how I relax but who ALSO binged the entire Witcher show in 1 afternoon and now can't stop thinking about it??? It's also MEEEEEE. 
> 
> Enjoy a shameless re-write because I literally don't have enough hours left in my life to delve into another massive AU.
> 
> Shamessly not beta'd because my beta reader is busy with Drift and I'm not going to work her to the bone for my slutty, slutty fandom hopping.

**Bottled Appetites**

Gabe spurred Blackwatch on. The gelding’s hoofbeats clattered on the cobblestone, but they couldn’t drown out the wheezing. Jesse’s pained breaths rattled in Gabe’s ears, a constant reminder of his idiotic mistake. 

“Hold on,” he grunted, “almost there.”   


The big house came into view at the end of the lane. The gate stood open, even this late at night. Finally, something was going his way. He spurred Blackwatch through the gate onto the grounds. 

Something appeared out of the shadows of the house. Gabe expanded his pupils. The shadows peeled back to reveal an older, bald man with a weaselly looking face. 

“Fee for entrance,” the man said, grabbing Blackwatch’s bridle. 

The gelding tossed his head, offended. Gabe pat him twice and settled him. 

“I need to see the mayor. It’s urgent.” 

The weaselly man’s grin widened. “I don’t make the rules, friend.” He held out his hand. “But money does open all doors.”

Jesse didn’t have time for this bastard’s games. 

“Hmm,” Gabe grunted. 

He leaned forward, Jesse slumping against him, fresh blood dripping onto Gabe’s back. He grabbed the small bag of coin from the last hunt. It wasn’t as heavy as it had been after paying the doctor, but it would do. Gabe lifted it up where the would-be toll man could see it and gave it a shake. The coins rattled. Gabe offered it. 

The man’s eyes glittered with greed. He reached for it. Gabe whipped his hand up. The gold cracked against the man’s jaw, snapping his head to the side. He dropped to the ground like a rock. 

_ Money opens all doors _ . “So it does.” He put his heels to Blackwatch’s sides. 

All the lights in the house were out. Didn’t matter. Gabe would wake the dead if he had to so Jesse got the magical attention he needed. Gabe found the doors to kitchens were not as securely locked as house doors. A swift kick opened the way. He grabbed the bag with the broken pieces of amphora, put Jesse over his shoulder, and carried him in. There was blazing fire in the main fireplace, the remains of a dinner for a large number of people scattered about. But there were no people. Not even a scullery maid. Damn it. 

Jesse struggled to take a breath and a wet splash splattered on the floor. Gabe spotted a mostly clean table and eased Jesse off his shoulder onto it. 

The swelling of his throat had stopped, but the sickly looking black veins had spread down to his chest and up to this chin. Jesse grabbed Gabe’s shoulders as another wave of blood spilled over his lips onto their boots. Shit. 

“It’s alright, I’ll find the mage and—” 

Jesse looked over Gabe’s shoulder. His eyes widened and he let out a stunned wheeze. 

“What?” Gabe asked, turned and stopped dead. “Whoa.”

A portly man— probably sixty years old judging by the whips of silver hair— stood before the blazing fire, buck-ass naked. The bowl in his hand slipped, shattering on the floor. The man smiled, almost comically wide. 

“Welcome… to my home.” 

His home? “You’re the mayor?” The doctor had spoken of a cruel, arrogant man. This… buffoon was him? “Not exactly what I was expecting.” 

Jesse sucked in another breath that could barely get through his windpipe. He grabbed Gabe’s arm as he struggled to breathe. 

“Sorry, he’s in a bad way. Is there a mage that lives here?” 

The naked mayor’s eyes looked passed Gabe and settled on a flagon next to Jesse’s ass. “Ah. The apple juice. He wants apple juice. And he always… get what he wants….” The man tailed off as he swayed, stupid grin still plastered on his face. 

Gabe looked at Jesse, who looked right back at him. 

“I don’t understand, does he want me to get him the apple juice?”

Jesse put up his hands and shrugged. “I… don’t… know….” he managed to gasp. 

Maybe a drink would bring the mayor back to his senses. Gabe kept Jesse upright with one hand and grabbed the flagon with the other. He turned to hand it to the mayor, only to find the man passed out against the wall, snoring. 

“Oh. Good.” Fuck it. He’d find the mage himself. “Come on.” He hoisted Jesse onto his feet, pulling him to the door that lead into the house. 

Another kick opened it, and a bank of mist rolled out, splashing onto the tile at their boots. 

“The fuck?” Gabe snarled. What kind of house was this with no people, naked mayors, and fog?

Soft voices floated along the mist, coming from a hall to their left. 

“Hmm.” Gabe pulled Jesse along.

He marched toward the room with the sounds coming from it, Jesse’s raspy wheezes in his ear. They rounded the corner, mist parting like a curtain to an unexpected scene. 

Dozens of masked villagers undulated in a mass orgy. It was a sea of saggy tits and wrinkled balls. Pairs and trios grinded against each other. Soft moans and stifled grunts were the only sounds anyone made. One woman’s legs were wrapped around someone’s face like their lives depended on it. Some of the glassy-eyed gazes landed on them, but didn’t really see them. 

The fuck had they walked into? Jesse let out a wheeze that sounded somewhere between confused, concerned, and aroused. He would. Gabe steeled himself, tightened his grip on Jesse’s collar, and walked forward. 

Hands appeared out of the mist, trailing along his arms, his shoulders. Greedy fingers tried to grab his shirt, but Gabe ignored them. A minty scent lingering in the air. Enchantment. The mage had to be here, admiring her handiwork, or taking part in it.

Slowly, the naked crowd parted before him to reveal a cream colored fainting couch— that probably cost more than a months worth of hunting— and the figure sitting upon it. 

The man wore all black silk that hugged his body like another skin. The sleeves of his shirt were little more than strips laying against his pale skin. The front was open to the navel, more black bands crossed his chest. Gabe supposed that was supposed to be sexy, but something about it made him think of a cage. Golden hair had been swept back behind him, save for a few locks artfully arranged to fall in front of his eyes. Eyes that Gabe could damn near see from across the room. They glowed the most pure blue he’d ever seen. 

An elegantly crafted mask— with more holes in it than material— did little to hide the man’s face, but concealing an identity wasn’t the point of the thing. The man cocked his head to one side and watched them approach, not with anger, or curiosity, but a deep seated boredom. Long lashes fluttered, and the deep-blue eyes caught Gabe’s, daring him to come closer. 

Jesse sucked in a ragged breath and Gabe snapped out of his own head. Jesse was in no shape to defend himself against a mage’s tricks. If he was going to die, best he die the way he wanted to, in the middle of an orgy. 

“Stay.” Gabe pushed his charge into the seat of an overstuffed chair. 

Jesse collapsed into it, and it’s naked occupant. The woman in a green mask quickly smothered him with her ample bosom, while a man with nothing more than a blindfold on groped at his thighs. Jesse let out the confused, concerned, aroused wheeze again.

Charge in someone else’s  _ very _ capable care, Gabe continued on alone. More hands, more searching fingers dragged against him until he reached the fainting couch. The man in the silken cage watched him approach, full lips—that had been painted a subtle pink— pressed into a frown.

Gabe stopped at the shallow set of steps leading up to the couch. “I—” Someone let out a long, low moan behind him. Right. The orgy must be making a very impressive backdrop for him right now. “I, uh… brought you apple juice.” He held up the flagon.

The man on the couch watched him, eyes half closed for a long moment. “And quite a bit more.” 

That deep, gravelly voice nearly rocked Gabe back on his heels. That voice didn’t match the pretty face it came from. He’d heard monsters speak with softer voices. 

The other didn’t seemed phased. His gaze drifted up and down Gabe’s form, eyes narrowing every so slightly, but his expression never changed. 

“You’re immune.” 

Gabe herd the unspoken: _ to my orgy spell, what a shame _ . He’d could count on one hand the number of men mages. Chaos tended to bless women. “You must be the mage.”

The mage rolled his pretty-blue eyes and set aside the golden wine goblet he’d been holding. Damn it. How had Gabe missed that detail? It was his job to see everything. 

“Johnathan of Bloomingtown,” he said, or more rightly, grunted the name like it had offended him. “Call me Jack.” 

“Hm.” 

Gabe watched as Jack put his hands behind him, leaning back on the couch, bored expression unchanged, chest muscles popping out of the black silk, pink nipples very nearly exposed and damn wasn’t that a shame. Jack clearly had the best tits in the room. 

“The doctor didn’t mention that—” Jack was gorgeous, alluring, distracting, mouthwatering in a way that made Gabe want to give into— 

Jack’s gaze shot back to Gabe, looking him up and down once more. “What did he fail to mention?” 

The words were even and calm, but something about the way Jack’s tone shifted at the end made Gabe think it’d be best to let that direction of the conversation die. He didn’t want to bring a mage’s wrath down on anyone, let alone someone that had helped keep Jesse alive. Even if the hint in Jack’s tone tempted Gabe to see what his real anger looked like. 

“Uh…” Right. Best get to the point. Jesse was dying. “We….” The idea of Jesse’s hands on Jack, both of them masked and partaking along with the others around them did something strange to Gabe’s insides. “We need your help.” 

“We?”

Gabe turned, looking over his shoulder at Jesse. Currently, his head was cradled between two massive breasts, their owner oblivious to the blood leaking from his mouth, while two men humped his legs. Jesse wheezed, giving Gabe kicked puppy eyes that said: if only I wasn’t slowly suffocating to death, I could really be enjoying this.

“Just a friend, I hope?” Jack asked. 

The words should have sounded provocative, but Jack’s tone was flat, like he was only going through the motions. Playing at being a sultry master of the orgy around him when he was truly board out of his mind. 

Gabe turned back to him, trying to size him up, figure him out. What was a mage this powerful doing in a small hamlet like this? Why bend these people to his will only if he disliked it? Who the hell was Johnathan of Bloomingtown and what did he want?

Their eyes met again. This time, Jack sat forward, placing his elbows on his knees, studying him with sudden interest, shirt falling open. Yes. Jack had the best nipples in the room as well. Pink, perky, with little whips of— 

“Your heartbeat. It’s  _ extraordinarily _ slow.” His voice dropped to a hushed whisper that made every nerve ending in Gabe’s body light up. “You’re….” His head cocked again, eyes still studying every inch of Gabe’s face. “A mutant.” 

Gabe sighed. There was no hiding who he was. “A witcher. Gabriel of the City of Angels.” 

Jack inhaled. His eyes widened, chest muscles tightened like a bowstring drawn taut, but there was hardly a change in his outward body language. He was  _ very _ good at hiding, but Gabe had managed to take Jack off guard just enough to put a crack in the veneer. 

His mouth opened, lips inviting Gabe to try a taste at his own peril. Even from a few paces away, Gabe could see the gears turning behind the blue eyes. 

“The famous Black Owl.” Jack dragged out each word into a sultry declaration that held more raw sexual energy than a city full of whores. He pushed himself up to his feet, rising taller, and taller, until he towered over Gabriel, looking down at him like a king on a peasant. 

_ It’s a very nice view _ , Gabe’s mind and cock told him at the same time. 

Slowly, Jack came closer, one step at a time, hips swaying more than they needed to, all his attention focused solely on Gabe, gaze never wavering. He stopped on the final stair, leaving him close enough for Gabe to feel the heat radiating from him, and a scant few inches taller. 

_ Fuck _ , was the only thought Gabe could muster. 

Jack’s gaze searched his, the boredom so evident before gone. His lips pursed for a moment. “I thought you’d have fangs or horns or something.” 

The slanderous false-fact spread by drunk bards and fearful idiots snapped Gabe back from whatever spell the mage was trying to weave. “I had them filed down,” he growled. 

Instead of rethinking the way he spoke, Jack chuckled, the little bit of rasp to it sliding across Gabe’s ears and making him want to hear more of that sound. Jack stepped down from the final stair, slowly making a circle around Gabe, though his hands didn’t touch. A pity.

“First time I’ve seen a witcher up close,” Jack admitted. 

So, he must be a fairly young mage. Gabe cocked his head to watch Jack out of the corner of his eye. 

Jack stopped at his side, smile bleeding away as his eyes lost focus. Like he’d taken Gabe’s measure, found him wanting, and was done with him. A child with a toy that had lost its luster. 

“What little spells can you cast with your hands?” he asked, sultry tone gone, more something between polite and brash. “Call it professional curiosity.” 

Gabe turned to him, facing him head on. If Jack found him wanting, Gabe didn’t care. If reality didn’t meet a mage’s far fetched expectations that wasn’t his problem. He had a mission. 

“Please, Jesse needs immediate attention.” He had to be nice. Jack was the only mage in any direction. If he refused to help…. “And then, if you’d like,” he lowered his voice to a rumble, “I’ll indulge your curiosity.  _ All night long _ .”

Jack’s nostrils flared, his eyes— that had been lined with black kohl— widened. Indignant rage— and a flash of excitement— crossed his face in a heartbeat before Jack schooled his expression back to a calm, neutral mask. Another crack in the veneer. Heat that had nothing to with the temperature danced between them. 

“It won’t take all night,” Jack dismissed, lifting his chin and looking away. His gaze quickly returned. As did the sultry tone. “But, I’m sure we could find a way to fill the time.” He stepped into Gabe, bringing their bodies flush. 

Heat turned into fire. The mint intensified, clouding Gabe’s mind with thoughts of peeling Jack out of that silk, leaving him in nothing but the mask and seeing how good that pale skin looked spread across the expensive rug on the floor. 

Gabe stepped back, out of Jack’s clutches. He held up the bag, putting it between them like a shield. 

“He was attacked by a djinn,” he said, shaking loose of the spell. 

“A djinn?” Jack’s expression ever so slightly took on a look of confusion. At the change in conversion, or the subject matter, Gabe couldn’t tell. 

After a heartbeat, Jack tore his gaze from Gabe to look over at the victim in question. 

Gabe glanced at his traveling companion. Jesse—somehow despite literally dying with every breath—had managed to acquire another large-breasted orgy partner in addition to his other three. 

Even in the terrible light, Gabe could see the black veins throbbing in Jesse’s throat. One of the veins had reached his ear. 

“Whatever’s wrong with him,” Gabe said, “it’s spreading.”

Jack took the bag from Gabe and turned away as he opened it. After too many of Gabe’s slow heartbeats, Gabe pressed him. 

“Fix it and I'll pay you.” Jesse dying because Gabe had made a stupid mistake was unthinkable. “Whatever the price.” 

Jack whipped back around, shooting him a look that pierced through Gabe and pinned him to the far wall. “You’ll have to do better than juice.”

_ Fuck _ . Gabe held back the curse as dread settled in the pit of his stomach. Had he just agreed to indentured servitude to be able to afford Jack’s services? 

The fleeting smirk that crossed Jack’s lips informed him that yes, the price was going to be very steep indeed. Those pretty eyes looked left and right, as if finally seeing the throng of people that surrounded them. 

“Ragamuffin!” Jack’s voice was nothing but gravel has he shouted the word.

The scent of mint vanished. The mist evaporated. The candles seemed to suddenly give off more light and the soft music— had it been there this whole time?— stopped. The bespelled townsfolk stopped in their tracks. 

There were muffed yelps, gasps, sputtered declarations of rebuke. Shirts were fetched, pants hastily pulled on, arms and hands used for modesty when only seconds ago modesty was an unknown concept. 

All the while, Jack climbed the stairs back to his couch, looking at the broken bits of the djinn’s amphora. 

A sack of wheat hitting the floor made Gabe turn. Jesse had fallen off his chair, face-first into the floor as his partners abandoned him. 

“Bring him upstairs to my personal chamber,” Jack said, offhandedly. “Then we’ll discuss payment.” 

Gabe retrieved Jesse. “Come on,” he grumbled. “I’m going to pay dearly for you, so don’t die on me now.” 

Jesse wheezed something that might have been an apology, but mostly sounded like blood in his lungs. 

“What?” 

Jesse wheezed again, a smile cracking his bloody lips. “He’s…. hot….” 

Gabe grunted, ignoring the comment that he wholeheartedly agreed with. Give him a monster and he could deal with it, no matter how dangerous. Jack however… Jack was something else entirely. 

And Gabe wasn’t as confidant he could deal with him.

**Author's Note:**

> Toss a coin to your Witcher, and maybe I'll get around,
> 
> to writing the bath scene, oh oh oooh!!


End file.
